


I'll Stay With You Forever (whether you're right or wrong)

by ArgentSleeper



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Criminals, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-01
Updated: 2014-05-01
Packaged: 2018-01-21 13:26:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1552067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgentSleeper/pseuds/ArgentSleeper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bonnie and Clyde AU</p><p><em>“You've read the story of Jesse James</em><br/>of how he lived and died.<br/>If you're still in need;<br/>of something to read,<br/>here's the story of Bonnie and Clyde.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Stay With You Forever (whether you're right or wrong)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [agirlnamedtruth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/agirlnamedtruth/gifts).



> This being posted way later than I'd ever dreamed. Due to medical complications this is being posted by a proxy. The same proxy also beta'd this fic so all my love goes to him. Sorry for any mistakes as we work this out.
> 
> Also thanks to the brilliant agirlnamedtruth for her patience in waiting for this. And of course for her lovely art prompt.
> 
> The subsections are excerpts from Bonnie Parker's on poetry, The Trail's End.
> 
> Warnings are listed at the bottom due to spoilerlyness.

_“You've read the story of Jesse James_  
of how he lived and died.  
If you're still in need;  
of something to read,  
here's the story of Bonnie and Clyde.”

 

 

If you asked him how it all began, why he would ever say yes to such a proposal, Merlin couldn’t rightly tell you. He’d claim it all just sort of started, and it happened, and suddenly it just _was_.

 

He wasn’t even sure Morgana knew anymore what the genesis was, and it was her baby in the first place.

 

The first job had been nothing, a test, a ball of nerves and excitement the mix the likes of which only comes with the rush of doing something _wrong_. They had been in and out of the little convenience store before the clerk had even really been cognizant of what they were doing. It had been simple, child’s play. They didn’t even have a gun.

 

Not that the headlines admitted that. “ _Couple Robs Country Store_ ”, declared the headlines. The articles painted a story of two heavily armed bandits, loaded down with more loot than they could carry and a clerk who barely escaped with his life.

 

The old man might have had a heart attack, but Merlin was all too aware they had only made out with a handful of crumpled bills, the most the rundown store ever really even made in a day.

 

Morgana, however, was on the paper’s side. As if she hadn’t been present herself, she gushed over the details, sprawling over Merlin’s lap and reading the story to him like a sordid love letter.

 

“We’s famous, Merlin,” she sighed, snuggling into him contentedly.

 

“Give it some time, Morgie. Don’t you fret; it’ll all blow over in a few days.” _Then we might be able to go back about our business without someone squealing._

 

But Morgana just looked up at him, eyes wide with something, hope, a dream, a vision of the future. “It don’t have to,” she whispered. “We could… we could do it agin.”

 

So no, if you asked Merlin why he started all this, he couldn’t have told you. But if you asked why he kept on doing it…

 

What more reason did he need than her?

 

 

_“They call them cold-blooded killers_

_they say they are heartless and mean._

_But I say this with pride_

_that I once knew Clyde,_

_when he was honest and upright and clean.”_

 

 

The next job wasn’t nearly as smooth as the first. The clerk wasn’t some old man, for one, bowled over with threats and a stern look. No, some young buck with a rifle and the know-how to use it greeted them.   Merlin just barely pulled Morgana away in time as he fired a shot. The adrenaline still pumping through his veins, Merlin grabbed a hoe from a nearby rack, swinging it through the air and smashing it down on the barrel of the rifle.

 

The hoe was no match for the steel of the rifle, snapping the wood handle in two, but the clerk’s hands were no match for the force of the chop, and the gun ripped from his grip and skittered across the floor, inciting another loud _bang_ as the second charge went off. The clerk dove for the rifle, but Merlin wielded his splintered hoe once more, cracking it over the young man’s head and knocking him unconscious.

 

Or maybe dead. But there was no time for checking.

 

Morgana didn’t move, slightly stunned by the display, but Merlin was still running on the pumping of his blood, shoving the cash in the bag –after all that, there was no way he was leaving empty handed. Then he took her by the hand and tugged her out to their old Ford, waiting for them just outside the door.

 

“Are you okay, Morgie?” He smashed on the gas pedal, spitting dust and dirt behind them.

 

“Merlin…” _We shouldn’ta done this. I’ve ruined ever’thing. She won’t look at me the same now._ “You was _wonderful_.”

 

Morgana leaned over and planted a kiss on his cheek, the most either of them dared with the speeds they were traveling. Merlin was amazed he could keep driving anyway. _Wonderful… for nearly killing a man?_ Even worse, Merlin hoped the clerk _was_ dead. Then he couldn’t identify them. But he would never ever admit that desire to Morgana.

 

“We’s gonna need a way to defend ourselves.” Her. He was defending her. Always.

 

That was how they entered their third job with a pistol apiece. Morgana didn’t want to, calling it crass and unsophisticated, but Merlin forced her to carry the weapon in a garter round her leg. She would never be caught powerless, not while he was around.

 

They needed them for that job, too. Once again someone tried to fight them off, this time a bystander Merlin could have sworn wasn’t there when it all started. Merlin pulled his pistol and didn’t hesitate to empty a round into the man’s leg. The bystander dropped, blood pooling around him far faster than Merlin would have thought possible from such a tiny hole. The clerk surrendered immediately at the sight of the weapon, dropping the cash into the sack Morgana proffered without further protest.

 

But Merlin could see the clerk studying them, memorizing them. It didn’t matter that they covered themselves up with scarves as best they could; Morgana was striking, always had been. Only a fool would forget her face. The thought of the last clerk whose tale never had a chance to be told flashed into his mind. This man could identify them. He was frightened, but he wasn’t broken. The moment he and Morgana were gone, he would go right to the police to tell them everything he knew.

 

Merlin knew he couldn’t let that happen.

 

He returned the clerk’s gaze sadly as he levelled the pistol again. The man knew what was coming, had the frantic plea on his lips when Merlin pulled the trigger. Morgana jumped. She hadn’t been expecting it, not now that they had the money. But she didn’t chastise him. She just held out a hand and together they ran.

 

As they fled once again in their old model Ford, Morgana smoothed her fingers up and down his arm and leaned into him as much as she could. “We was brilliant. _You_ was brilliant.”

 

When the paper came out the next day, bearing the headline “ _Double Act Strikes Thrice_ ” she repeated the sentiment, adding “They ain’t never gonna forget our names, Merlin. Not nobody, not ever.”

 

Merlin couldn’t bring himself to point out that nobody even knew their names. Instead he just pulled her down to the bed and tried to forget himself.

 

 

_The road gets dimmer and dimmer_

_sometimes you can hardly see._

_But it's fight man to man_

_and do all you can,_

_for they know they can never be free._

 

 

It wasn’t enough. They both knew it, and the knowledge chafed the longer neither of them attempted to change it. Another few dozen convenience stores and gas stations later ( _another few dozen bodies, folks who were in the wrong place at the wrong time, who were just unfortunate enough to happen to get in the way_ ) however, and Morgana’s growing unhappiness was too much for Merlin to ignore.

 

“I found another job, Morgie.” Merlin wrapped himself around her in the shack they’d claimed for the last month, needing to lie lower than usual after a pair of teenagers spotted them coming out of their last hit.

 

“Hmm?” She looked up at him tiredly, not out of depression, but boredom. Some part of him had always known, their recent acts had been too small time for her. She was meant for the stars. Merlin knew it was him chaining her to the ground.

 

That was the way it had always been. Morgana had given up everything to be with him. Her family, her friends, her wealth. Never once had she done anything to make him to feel guilty about it, but he had nonetheless. It was his turn to give up something for her. And if this was what she wanted, who was he to deny her?

 

“There’s a bank on the outskirts of this place. Gets a fair bit of traffic for being so isolated, but don’t get emptied out by the state often as it should.” The spark started growing in Morgana’s eyes again. “Reckon if we case the joint, we could take it easy.”

 

“Ye really think? For honest truth?”

 

“Course. I believe in you, Morgie.”

 

“And I believe in you.”

 

He’s sure it’s not his imagination that Morgana draws her pistol much more eagerly as they enter the nearly empty little bank. Yet as always she makes her demand to hand over the money like she was inviting them to a coca cola down at the drive-in, eyes crinkling as a wild smile spreads under her scarf.

They take it easy. The loot in their bag is ten, no, twenty times what they usually were able to take from their petty robberies. Morgana’s rising up to the clouds. “We did it, Merlin! We’s gonna make it, I know we is. You and me against the world, ain’t nobody who can stop us.”

 

Except they can.

 

The bank was larger than any place they’d ever attempted a heist at before. They’d had less time to prepare, too, needing to hit it before the state came in to clean it out. But with eight of the buildings under their belt, they were larger than life, and even Merlin was starting to believe they could do this.

 

He didn’t even notice the guard with the gun until it was too late. Merlin had been doing his job, thought he was doing his job, keeping an eye out for the cops, measuring up the civilians, passing judgment on who would live and who would have to die.

 

And _sweet Heavens, when did he become the good Lord himself? When did he earn that right to choose?_

 

The instant he heard the bang, Merlin pivoted on his feet and fired his own shot. The errant guard was down before the far too familiar scream even rent the air.

 

“ _Morgana!_ ” Merlin was at her side in a flash, shaking hands pressing down on the wound in her leg. They never tell you that blood’s only red when it’s thin. That when it’s thick and heavy and never stops it’s the near black of Hell.

Someone tried to converge on them and Merlin whipped his pistol back up, shooting blindly at anyone who dared to be near. Morgana leaned across the floor and scooped up her own dropped gun, pointing it menacingly. He stripped his scarf from his face and wrapped it around her bare leg, tying it tight. The cloth began to soak instantly, and he took the forgotten cash sack and wrapped that around, too.

 

“What about the loot?” she hissed, trying to swat his efforts away.

 

“I’m about to escape with it now.”

 

He scooped her up in his arms, depending on her and her gun to provide them an escape route. No one tried to stop them. Merlin wasn’t sure if he was grateful or angry at the lack of appropriate victims for his revenge.

 

He made sure Morgana didn’t have the pistol near later, however, when he crossed his arms in front of her and said “We’s done.”

 

Morgana went white, and this time it wasn’t from the blood loss or pain medication he’d gone out to the pharmacy and stolen for her. “No. We cain’t stop. Please, Merlin. It won’t happen agin.”

 

“I just dug a _bullet_ outter yer damn _leg_. I won’t do that agin.”

 

Sweet Lord, he’d been terrified. He knew how to sterilize and how to stitch her up and how to give her medicine to help her healthy and pain free. But he didn’t know how to stop his own awful shaking, and the drink he’d stolen from that same pharmacy wasn’t helping as much as he hoped.

 

That’s not to mention that he was twice a damned fool. “ _Criminal Couple Makes a Name for Themselves_.” But it wasn’t the kind of name Morgana had dreamed of. It was her name, screamed out by him in his moment of weakness. He’d exposed her. It didn’t even matter that they now also had his face, because a face couldn’t be tracked beyond a wanted poster, but a name could, especially her name. He’d put her in more danger than a sharp knife and a few pills could fix.

 

Morgana was both the fiercest and most fragile creature he’d ever met, and Merlin had long ago stopped trying to figure out how anyone could be both. He’d sworn when he met her that he would never to do anything to cause her harm, not ever, and now he’d broken his word.

 

“One more,” she begged softly. “Just one more, please.”

 

And oh, it wasn’t fair that she was the one injured yet he was the one shattering to pieces.

 

“One more. One more and we’s done.”

 

 

_“If a policeman is killed in Dallas_

_and they have no clue or guide._

_If they can't find a fiend,_

_they just wipe their slate clean_

_and hang it on Bonnie and Clyde.”_

It was a long time before Merlin would agree to even start planning their next- and he prayed last –target. Morgana still had a limp, but the skin had finally sealed and Merlin was able to cut the crude stitches away. She may have been able to walk again, but he wasn’t sure that he would ever be able to look at the thick knotted scar without vomiting. He’d accidently ran his hand over it when they lay together a few nights before and had to get up and retreat to the bathroom for a long while.

 

It had led to a fight, in which both threatened to leave and begged the other to stay. It was ironic, that this would be the thing to drive them apart when Merlin was only doing to make her happy in the first place. And sure, the money had been used to buy a few fancy things, clothing and jewelry and Morgana had already picked out a home for them on the coast back East. But without her he had nothing.

 

Finally, after three months of varying begging and placating on both their parts, Merlin agreed to go out and start their planning. He had the target in mind. He’d passed it often enough while they lay in hiding. It was small, but packed away just enough money in their safe that Morgana would consider it good enough for their last run. Not to mention rumour had it that a local senator used it for his dirty money.

 

As always when he ventured into town, Merlin stopped to pick up the paper. Not only could he gather any news that might have come out about him and Morgana, but he would have something to hide his gaze behind while he cased the place.

 

It was lucky he did. Right there on the front page was a picture of one of the grander hotels in the small city, the kind Merlin never dared to allow them to stay in, no matter how much money they had. The headline simply stated “Senator Murdered!” The story was simple enough. Senator Agravaine had been found dead in his room, two bullet holes in his chest. The killers hadn’t been caught yet, but the police had two prime suspects and apparently a mountain of evidence.

 

Merlin barely felt his mouth gape open as his eyes travelled down the page to read “Morgana and her partner, name yet unknown.” A rough sketch of what must have been Merlin’s face graced the bottom half of the page.

 

No, this couldn’t be happening. They hadn’t killed anyone. At least not Senator Agravaine. Why, they’d never even laid eyes on the senator. This bull about mountains of evidence was a complete lie. But that didn’t matter. If the cops said he and Morgana did this, murdered a _senator_ , they weren’t going to stop until they caught them. Which meant they had to run, and this time they couldn’t stop, not for anything.

 

Morgana wouldn’t understand if he told her. She would be thrilled they were considered dangerous enough to be the prime suspects in such a grand case. He would never convince her to leave well enough alone. But he couldn’t allow her to be hurt again. His dreams already too often morphed from deep red blood gushing from her leg to oozing from her chest as bullets turned her heart to lace.

 

Which meant if he was going to save her, Merlin was going to have to do something drastic. And he would just have to pray that in the end, she would forgive him.

 

_“If they try to act like citizens_

_and rent them a nice little flat._

_About the third night;_

_they're invited to fight,_

_by a sub-gun's rat-tat-tat.”_

 

 

“Merlin! I was getting worried. Well? When can we start?” Morgana jumped up from the table where she’d been playing nervously with one of the long jewelled chains he’d bought her.

 

He swallowed, shoving his hands in his pockets to hide the way they always twitch when he’s lying. “I was just listening to the city gossip. Word is Arthur’s sick.”

 

Morgana sniffed, her carefully cultivated country accent dropped with the measure of her disdain. “I hardly think that if he was people around here would be talking about it.”

 

“They was saying he might be dying. It’s always big news when a big shot like him goes.”

 

“Arthur’s not dying.” But she doesn’t sound so sure.

 

“Why don’t we goes and check? We got the money for the train. Put your mind at ease.”

 

Morgana loved her brother. She loved her brother nearly as much as she hated her father. Merlin’s still not sure what convinced her to ignore his advice – _command_ , more like –not to run away with Merlin. Except maybe that she’d never listened to anyone’s orders a day in her life, and not even Arthur could make her start.

 

But that didn’t mean that she didn’t still love him anyway. Merlin could tell she was struggling between her worry for Arthur’s wellbeing and her need to punish her family for their disapproval of her choices with Merlin.

 

“He’s your brother, Morgie. We don’t have to see Uther, promise.”

 

Morgana changed her mind six times before they even got on the train, and five more before they got off. Even her packing had been torn with indecision. Should she wear the simplest things she had to display her scorn for her family’s lifestyle? Or should she bring the new things they’d bought with their scores to prove that Merlin could provide for her just as well as anyone? In the end she opted for a mix so she could snub them twice.

 

Merlin brought a single suit to satisfy her, the rest was his regular threadbares. Arthur would disapprove no matter what he brought. He had never outright threatened Merlin like Uther had, but he hadn’t exactly been the kindest either. Not that it mattered. So long as he still loved Morgana Merlin didn’t care what Arthur thought of him.

 

Geoffrey, the butler, answered the door. Morgana swept past him without waiting for an invitation. “Where is he?”

 

“In the office, miss.”

 

“Of course he is. He’d be in the office if it were burning down around his ears,” she muttered, storming ahead.

 

But when she entered to find a perfectly healthy, if terribly startled, Arthur sitting at his large oak desk scratching away at his work, Morgana froze.

 

“Morgana! What are you… I mean.. You’re _here_.”

 

She quickly shook off her shock, masking her emotions behind a veil of scorn. “That’s a bit obvious, don’t you think, brother dear? Now, which room are we to be put up in?”

 

Morgana stalked back out, calling for Geoffrey. Merlin winced at the hidden glare in her eyes, promising all kinds of pain for lying to her, as well as a question of _why_. He felt the lies form themselves in his brain, each one with the weight of a brick. Somehow he soldiered on regardless. It was almost over.

 

That night, Merlin looked down at his sleeping lover, brushing the soft, dark strands from her face and placing a gentle kiss on her cheek. This was for her. It was all for her. He hoped one day she would come to accept that.

 

He tossed his rucksack over a shoulder and tip-toed out of the room, easing the door shut behind him. The house was dark, even the servants gone to bed by this time. At the front door he paused, digging out the letter he’d spent the entire train ride agonising over in his head. He should have put it next to her in the bed, but somehow he was sure it was better this way. She wouldn’t be alone if she found it here.

 

“I’ve called you a lot of things, Emrys, but I never thought you were a coward.”

 

Merlin froze, then turned to face Arthur. The other man glared at him, arms crossed. “That’s it, then? You’re just going to sneak away in the dead of night?”

 

“You don’t understand,” Merlin whispered miserably.

 

“No, I really don’t,” Arthur agreed. “Why don’t you explain it to me, preferably before the police get here.”

 

“ _You called ‘em?_ ” No, Arthur wouldn’t. He _wouldn’t._ Then it hit Merlin the implications of that statement. “You already know.”

 

“Yes, well, it wasn’t the best rendering of your ghoulish looks, but paired with my sister’s name… Some of us aren’t complete idiots, _Mer_ lin.”

 

“We didn’t do it.”

 

“Didn’t do what? The robberies? The shootings? You’re going to tell me Morgana’s limp is from falling down the stairs of your home and not the bullet wound the papers reported she received a few months ago?”

 

“We didn’t kill that gov’rnment man.”

 

"That's not what the papers say. What the _police say."_

 

"The cops are lying. Morgana and I weren't never there."

 

"And yet you're running. Why run if you're as innocent as you claim?"

 

Merlin hung his head. "Because it don't matter. Still ain't innocent, and they right know it."

 

Arthur's eyes widened, then narrowed. "Morgana doesn't know, does she? She doesn't know you've been implicated."

 

"I'm going to tell them she didn't have nothing to do with it. I made her join me. Once they got me, they won't care 'bout her no more."

 

"Morgana will never forgive you for this. She'll hate you the rest of her days."

 

"So long as she has many more of those days to do so, I don't care."

 

"Days you think she'll spend what? Knitting here in safety? No, you aren't going to do this. You are going to come clean to her about the murder, and you are going to give her a choice. And then the two of you are going to stop this nonsense."

 

Merlin was too tired to even bother with an eye roll that Arthur thought he could simply order him around in this. "This is what she wants.” Merlin hadn’t missed the way she changed almost immediately into her fine clothes after they arrived. The way her smile beamed brighter back in the atmosphere of decadence she was used to.

 

Arthur did roll his eyes. “If you don’t know that she cares a damn sight more about you than a few pretty baubles or some insane idea of ‘fun,’ then perhaps you don’t deserve her after all.”

 

That, at least, was something they could both agree on.

Merlin stayed. The next morning he tried to fade into the curtains as he steeled himself.

 

"Morgie, we need to talk."

 

Morgana promptly burst into tears. "I knew it! I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Merlin. Please, don't go! Please don't leave me!"

 

Merlin stared for a second then rushed forward to the bed to envelop her in a hug. "I ain’t going anywhere, Morgie, promise." _Not anymore._ "I swear, I'm staying right here with you."

 

“Promise?”

 

“Promise. But I gotta tell you somethin’. We’re in trouble, Morgie. Big trouble.” He gave her the whole story about the senator, how they were on the line for the crime despite their innocence. “They ain’t gonna give us jail time for this one. It’ll be the chair.”

 

Morgana held on tighter. “I won’t let ‘em.” As if she could stop them. “We didn’t do nothing wrong.”

 

Suppressing a choked laugh, Merlin pulled her away, locking eyes. “We did. You know we did. But we can’t anymore. We gotta run, far as we can. Maybe go up t’ Canada. Start over.”

 

She stood, trembling, gaze cast down at the floor. Merlin held tightly to her hand, a silent plea that she wouldn’t leave either. Morgana wasn’t stupid. He knew that. She was impulsive, she was fiery, she was even perhaps a bit mad, but she wasn’t stupid.

 

“One more,” she whispered finally. “You promised me one more.”

 

“And then we’s done?”

 

Morgana collapsed into his lap, slipping her arms around his neck and nuzzling into the crook of his shoulder. He pretended not to feel her tears.

 

“And then we’re done.”

 

 

_“They don't think they're too smart or desperate_

_they know that the law always wins._

_They've been shot at before;_

_but they do not ignore,_

_that death is the wages of sin.”_

 

 

Merlin took his time scoping out their final target. Morgana spent the days with Arthur, who was careful not to let on to her that he knew she was saying goodbye.

 

Finally Merlin couldn’t put it off anymore. The Pendragons might have had clout to deter close investigation, but they were putting Arthur in danger the longer they stayed with him. Just the other day, when Arthur had treated them to a night out, their server couldn’t stop staring quizzically at Merlin’s face after he heard Morgana’s name.

 

“Bring her back one day, eh?”

No one pointed out that one day might never come.

 

The bank was small, much smaller than their last few, but he was taking no risks. It was their last job. It didn’t matter anymore.

 

Gone were the long dresses and jewels. Both of them pared down to their basic essentials, chosen for the ease of movement when the time came to run. Merlin made sure both their guns were fully-loaded. He had no illusions that he wouldn’t need to use it today. He’d given up that fantasy long ago.

 

No one turned when they walk in the doors. No one ever did. It wasn’t until they reached the counter and Morgana handed over the bag with an order to hand over the money in the till and her sweetest smile that people started to panic. That was Merlin’s cue to pull out his pistol and politely request that everyone remain calm. Which of course produced the opposite of calm, but at least they were quiet.

 

The teller began to hand over the cash on hand. Slowly, much too slowly, the bag began to fill. With every second that ticked by, Merlin became more and more anxious. It was their last job. They were getting out. No need for matters to get complicated now.

 

“We have you surrounded! Come out with your hands up!”

 

Merlin nearly dropped the gun in shock. _No_. _Not now. Not **now.**_

Morgana calmly tied the full bag and tossed it over her shoulder. “Sounds like it’s time to go, love.” Her voice was heavy with regret.

 

But if they were truly surrounded, there was nowhere _to_ go. Merlin didn’t understand what had gone wrong. Their hit and run style had never failed them like this before. They were always in and out before the cops could arrive. Why did it have to be today of all days that they were nearby?

 

The police were at the doors, between them and the old Ford. They were wanted for robbery, murder, and it seemed who knew what else. They’d been caught in the act. All these points added up to one very heavy bottom line, which weighed Merlin’s heart down so low he was surprised he was still able to feel it beat.

 

“Morgana,” he said softly. He kept quiet not to hide her identity, already partially known, but to perhaps deny what he was about to suggest. “Morgana, we’s gonna have to take a hostage.”

 

She looked at him askance. Granted, the people in the bank already _were_ hostages, likely the only barrier keeping the police out, but never before had they needed to take one with them to escape unharmed, clutched tight to the chest with a barrel to the head. Merlin didn’t like the idea any more than she did. It felt so much more _personal_.

 

They surveyed the civilians crowded against a wall. There weren’t many, just a few men and women hoping to make a deposit or withdraw a few notes for the day. No children. Merlin point-blank refused to enter any job in which there were children. There was enough blood on his hands already. If he’d had to kill a child… he wasn’t sure he would ever be able to wash the stain away.

 

“We’ll take that woman there.” She was small, unlikely to fight back though she looked braver than the others, staring them down determinedly. “You’ll get in the car, then I wills, then we’ll push her out and go. It’ll be fine.”

 

Morgana still looked uncertain, but after a moment she squared her jaw and stalked over the woman he’d pointed out, grabbing her by the arm and dragging her over. “Keep quiet, girl.”

 

Merlin took over, wrapping an arm around the woman’s waist and resting the pistol on her chest. “Please, stay calm. This will be over in a minute, I promise.” His voice trembled slightly, as did his gun hand. He wondered if the woman noticed because she relaxed minutely. “Stay behind me, Morgie. Take the keys. You’re driving.” He thanked the Lord for her stubbornness in insisting on learning when Arthur did.

 

He felt her hand in his pocket, warm and comforting. His own body had grown cold. Slowly they walked towards the entrance and out the door. Half a dozen cops stood in a semi-circle a few yards away, firearms aimed. Merlin heard someone yelling for them to hold their fire as they caught sight of the captive woman. He ignored it, sidestepping carefully towards the old Ford, keeping himself between Morgana and the path of any bullets.

 

They reached the door. “Get in, Morgie,” he said, more calmly than he felt. Or just as calmly. A strange peace had washed through him as they walked. He couldn’t have explained it if he tried.

 

Morgana slid across the seat behind the steering wheel. Now it was Merlin’s turn. “Start it up. Be ready to hit the gas.”

 

As the engine purred to life behind him, he dimly wondered if she had figured out yet what part of him had known since he heard the bullhorn announcement. There was no way he could get in the car without letting go of the woman. If he let go of the woman, he would be shot.

 

But Morgana was in the car. She would be safe.

 

He didn’t turn around. If he looked at her he would break, and he wouldn’t be able to do it. “Morgana? Morgie, I loves you. More than anything. This, all of it, it’s been worth it, just to spend my days with you.”

 

“Merlin, what–”

 

He pushed the woman away.

 

Gunfire opened immediately, and the cold was punctured by pinpricks of searing heat. There was screaming, and he couldn’t have said if any of it was his own. He dropped to his knees, then slumped down to the ground. Hands wrapped around him and dragged him back upright.

 

“Merlin? Merlin, honey, say something, please!” His favourite face swims in his vision. Sweet Lord, but she was beautiful.

 

“You…” he choked out. It was surprisingly hard to talk, even though he was quite certain he hadn’t been hit in the throat or mouth. “You was… s’posed to drive…”

 

“ _I ain’t leaving you!_ ”

 

She squeezed his hand, and he tried to squeeze back, but nothing happened. “Naw… that’d be me… leaving you. I’s sorry, Morgie… I broked my promise.”

 

“Shut up! Shut up, shut _up!_ ” Something wet fell on him, and it was a moment before he realized it was more than tears.

 

“You…” he couldn’t keep the anguish from his voice.

 

She just smiled and brushed a kiss to his lips. “I told you… I’m not leaving you. Not ever.”

 

 

_“Some day they'll go down together_

_they'll bury them side by side._

_To few it'll be grief,_

_to the law a relief_

_but it's death for Bonnie and Clyde.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Violence, Major character death


End file.
